


‘Take Your Houseplants on a Walk’ Day

by havetardiswilltimetravel



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley's Plants (Good Omens), Domestic Fluff, Fluff, I can't believe this is an actual registered copyrighted holiday..., M/M, fluff with a little bit of feelings, take your houseplants on a walk day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 03:42:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20001763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havetardiswilltimetravel/pseuds/havetardiswilltimetravel
Summary: July 27th is ‘Take Your Houseplants on a Walk’ Day. Did you know this? Yeah, neither did Crowley. Cue Aziraphale.





	‘Take Your Houseplants on a Walk’ Day

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to my wonderful beta @Irrevocably_Sherlocked!

Two red wagons, a plant mister, and an enthusiastic angel.

That’s what Crowley found at his apartment door on a rather too sunny Saturday morning.

“...Wha-“

“Good morning, Crowley,” Aziraphale beamed, the morning person he was shining right through.

Crowley looked at the angel like he’d grown two heads. Aziraphale pressed on.

“Do you know what I found out yesterday?” he questioned.

Crowley raised an eyebrow.

“July 27th is ‘Take Your Houseplants on a Walk Day’!”

Crowley stared at him. “...is it now...”

“Yes, apparently it’s an international holiday.”

“...for houseplants...”

“Yes, isn’t that marvelous?”

Crowley opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“So, I figured I’d miracle up some transportation and we could take your lovely plants for a walk.”

“What?!” he yelped as Aziraphale strode right past him. He followed after, trying to keep up as the angel made a beeline for his garden. “You can’t be serious.”

“Of course I am,” Aziraphale said, stopping to stroke a leaf on a particularly lovely philodendron.

“Angel, they’re plants,” Crowley assured him. “They don’t need to go on walks.”

“Oh, but they’ll enjoy it! It’s such a lovely day out,” the angel insisted, moving further into the greenery. “They can get to know their environment a little better, too - familiarize themselves with the area.”

“They’re not dogs, Aziraphale,” Crowley scowled, leaning against the wall. “They don’t _need_ to know the area. They won’t run away.”

Aziraphale paused and turned back towards Crowley, confusion lining his features. “...but...I mean...don’t you want people to see your plants?”

Crowley didn’t so much as twitch, and the angel’s brow furrowed further. “Crowley, they’re beautiful...the best in the whole of London, I’m sure! You’ve done so much with them. And they’ve done so well.” He hesitated. “Surely you wouldn’t begrudge them a little showing off...?”

Aziraphale was not a plant but he looked like he might just wilt if Crowley’s answer was anything but ‘yes’. The demon sighed sharply, eyes moving to his garden.

“You had better be on your best behavior,” he growled at the plants. “No wilting, no breaking, not one leaf lost!” He could have sworn they all stood up a little taller.

Aziraphale smiled and patted a leaf reassuringly. “You’ll do splendidly.”

\---

“Oh, what beautiful plants!” A woman remarked, as she walked past them.

“They’re so lush!” A young couple said, stopping in admiration.

“You’ve got a green thumb, lad,” an elderly gentleman told him with a toothy grin.

The attention had been continuous ever since Aziraphale had miracled them (plants, wagons, and all) to St. James Park. Wherever they walked, people either gave them a strange look or complimented his plants. Crowley wasn’t sure which like liked less.

“Aziraphale, people are being NICE to them,” Crowley groused.

“Yes, of course they are, dear,” Aziraphale placated, walking along. “It’s what they deserve.”

“They’ll go soft!”

“They will not,” Aziraphale chided, sounding amused. Crowley sighed and dragged his feet.

“I don’t know why you’re so nice to them, Angel.”

“And I don’t know why you’re so mean to them,” Aziraphale countered pointedly. “You act like one small imperfection is grounds for eviction.”

“Well, isn’t it?”

Aziraphale slowed to a stop, and he turned to Crowley, a peculiar look on his face.

“...no, my dear boy.”

The angel’s eyes were kind and sad, and Crowley felt suddenly wrong-footed.

“They’re lovely. Absolutely lovely,” Aziraphale continued on. “They try so hard, they really do...” he searched Crowley’s face. “They deserve to be loved.”

Aziraphale was looking at him like he didn’t just mean the plants, and Crowley swallowed, fighting the urge to look away.

It was only a moment before Aziraphale smiled at him. A small, warm sort of smile, honest and reassuring.

The type of smile he wanted to lean into.

The type of smile that asked, ‘…is that alright?’

And all Crowley could think was ‘…yes…yes, I rather think it might be.’

\---

They walked on in companionable silence, down the road and around a bend. The plants really did seem to be having a good time. Aziraphale could just tell these things.

He turned around to tell Crowley just that, but he was met with an empty path. He sighed. Just like the demon to get distracted. He turned and started back down from where he’d come.

\---

“How do you keep them growing so pretty?” came a small voice round the bend.

“I yell at them when they make a mistake,” came Crowley’s unmistakable answer.

Aziraphale turned the corner to find Crowley with his plants and a little girl with her hand outstretched, fingers grazing the leaves.

“Oh...” the girl hummed. “My mum says we should never yell at any living creature if we can just talk with words.”

“Yes,” Crowley mused. “I have a friend that tells me the same.”

Aziraphale smiled, stopping at the bend.

“And that everyone makes mistakes,” she finished plainly.

At that, Crowley seemed at a loss.

“Which one is your favourite?”

“I don’t have a favourite,” Crowley replied.

“You love them all?” the girl asked, smiling happily.

“I...” Crowley paused, apparently unsure how to respond. He glanced at his plants who seemed to wilt a bit, almost as if they feared what he might say. After a moment, he exhaled, obviously having settled on something. “Yes…Yes, I suppose I do.”

Crowley blinked as his plants perked up, faint surprise playing over his features. Aziraphale smiled as one little plant even began to bloom.

 _Well,_ Aziraphale thought. _He never had been one to lie to children…_

“Crowley!”

The demon in question looked up and gave a small wave as Aziraphale started over.

“It seems my prior engagement has just arrived,” he said with a grin.

“Just as well, I promised my mum I’d be home for lunch,” the girl said, patting Crowley’s plants one more time before she took her leave.

\---

They made their way back up the road, wagon wheels rumbling behind them.

“Your plants look happy.”

“Hm...” He glanced back at them. The angel wasn’t wrong.

“You do, too.”

He gave that another "hm".

Aziraphale allowed him his “hm”s since there was an ice cream cart just ahead. However, all bets were off once they’d ordered their treats.

“Admit it, my dear,” Aziraphale looked over, his voice self-indulging. “This wasn’t a disaster.”

“Maybe not,” he admitted grudgingly as the ice cream vendor handed him his strawberry lolly. Not a moment passed, though, before he was grinning cheekily, catching Aziraphale’s eye. “Still ridiculous, though.”

“All the best things are ridiculous,” Aziraphale retorted as a matter of fact, taking his own ice cream in hand and looking at the plants with a critical eye.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Crowley agreed, watching fondly as his ridiculous angel tried to figure out the best way to share his ice cream with one of the ficuses.


End file.
